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Proud Beauty

Proud Beauty 

She had a Father whose favor she had, whose gift was perfect. Grace, beauty, and intelligence. It did not make her give praise, she grew proud. Her Father did not condemn her, He pursued her, sent her His sons and daughters to warn her but did she listen?

Her tired legs shuffled down the street. Silent and unable to converse. Grey hair falls apart, one can see her scab from a distance. A certain smell follows her, as she passe one broken step at a time. Sighs of regret, grunts of shame, she was once beautiful, you can see from the smooth lines on her face and the sudden beauty that flashes. When she gives a smile, one can only imagine her elegance, when she had her youth.

Socializing has become a task and no one seems to care or see her. She walks, then at intervals, she pauses to observe but no one notices her now. When you look at her eyes, you would see the depth of her intelligence, a knowledge that once gave her fame. No one sees her eyes or are kisses blown in her direction. No child to comfort, she never had time to bear one of those, even if she did she never thought she could be affectionate towards an infant.

Where are those flashy cars? I hard she broke a lot of homes and was a nightmare to wives. She makes jest of them and steals from their children. Also, o, how men rushed her, like flies after a bad smell. She walked without shame or fear, how her eloquence was spoken of and her thighs described.

I say, where are the mighty men, who promised her forever, those men that lead oceans, they promised her heaven, told her they owned the world. Hah! I say where are you who knew her as a girl with promise. Who was the first to break her hymen, did you tell her never to betray her, where have you gone? I say where is that clergy who promised deliverance after a sexual release. You have no ears now? Ok, some time back you could hear her by her sweet perfume. You staggered and flattered. You rejoiced in your lies and clever living, telling lies-filled prophesies, to her itchy ears.

A smell woke neighbors up, a  stench where the fragrance of flowers oozed. A forgotten queen is dead unknown and forgotten by her lovers. She died alone, empty, unsafe,d and buried like nothing. The community is amazed, the whole nation has nothing to say, the church close by never took note. Questions raise like clouds ready to pour. Only silence roams the streets. When she was born someone loved her and kissed her face.A woman my question is, why didn’t you listen?To that poor evangelist who spoke to you about a God who loved you? He tried to speak about the only man who could give you Heaven here and when death came. But he did not come like other men, he was not moved by your eyes or thighs, that you threw at him, why didn’t you listen? She never saw the purpose of the Pit, if she did, she would have cried out to God for help and God her Father will always answer.

If she had listened, God would have healed, forgiven,n and restored all that sin has destroyed. She would have hard beauty for ashes, shame for glory, weeping for joy. Or she would have had love, romance from God who cares. She would have had it here all and there more.

Now I ask when will you accept this Jesus Christ? When will you let Him show you how He conquered your heart and is willing to restore your soul. When will your striving end so you can rest.

When do you decide, that it is God or nothing?

 

 

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